


Strangers on a Train

by London9Calling



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Punk Rock, Train Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 00:03:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8229316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/London9Calling/pseuds/London9Calling
Summary: Having something to look forward to, something that didn’t come down to names and obligations is what mattered. That is what kept Minseok going. That is why, when he found out his name, he wanted to forget it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [liyussi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liyussi/gifts).



> For my lovely Yuni-bug, who deserves all the good things (like emo xiuhan porn, apparently lol)

October 8 th . It was the day Minseok learned the stranger’s name, a long overdue discovery that had faded in importance as time passed. Names weren’t important after a while, Minseok hadn’t even thought to ask. It was better this way, to never know, never form the ties that bind. The only reason he remembered the date was because it was the first time they tried something new, something that would stick with Minseok because he enjoyed it so much. But in all the right ways, not in the contrived have-to-remember ways. Not in the anniversaries, birthday, I worked here for a year ways. 

Modern society was a bitch. Minseok thought that almost every day, starting from the moment his alarm went off and pulled him out of his pillow topped bed. The sentiment continued as he took the metro to his shitty office job, and usually it reached fever pitch at two o’clock when he had a pile of paperwork dumped on him by the higher ups, who were all leaving to play golf. By the time he left the office building it would be dark, a pot of coffee in his stomach, exhaustion wiping his mind clean of everything but the notion this life was shit. Complete shit. 

Having something to look forward to, something that didn’t come down to names and obligations is what mattered. That is what kept him going. That is why, when he found out his name, he wanted to forget it. Because who gave a shit that his name was Lu Han. To Minseok he was the guy who fucked him senseless every evening on the metro. And in the end that was all that mattered. 

  
  


It started so simply.

The metro was packed in the evenings, for hours it was a crush of people entering each car, a never ending stream of students and office workers trying to get home. From four o’clock to ten o’clock it never stopped, the crowds never thinned, and Minseok never got a seat. Which was fine, he didn’t mind standing, his small hands grasping the handle or pole as the crowd pushed in.

Minseok would put his earbuds in and blast punk rock, hard and angry shit that used to give him energy when he was a teenager. Anymore it just kept him awake long enough to trudge to his apartment and throw a microwavable dinner in. 

He would ignore the press of bodies, the occasional jostles, and think about how nice his bed would feel. Debate if he should have a drink before bed, or maybe get online and see what his more successful friends were doing. He would be oblivious to his surroundings until he knew they were nearing his station, weeks and months and years of taking the same metro five days a week conditioning his internal clock to know when it was time to depart the crowded car for the crowded station. 

It was routine, firmly set. And then one day it wasn’t. 

Minseok had The Misfits blaring, his pinky finger tapping out the rhythm on the metro handle. The smell of stale cigarettes, hair spray, cheap perfume, and body odor surrounded him. The press of bodies moved him. Ignore, ignore, he ignored. 

It was soft, gentle, a pressure that was very different from a student bumping into him or a businessman elbowing him by mistake. It was so subtle he shouldn’t have noticed it, but he did. And many, many times he wondered how he had noticed it at all but never regretted it, never once regretted it. 

He pretended to ignore it, because he had long ago learned the habit. But he felt it. And he felt it again when a hand brushed against his waist, a palm resting on his hip. He felt it when his body rocked back into something hard, a juncture of arousal that felt so good pressed into his backside. 

He knew what was going on when he smelled the cologne, something expensive, not overwhelming and noxious. And he knew it when one earbud was gently taken out of his ear and that sinfully sweet voice replaced the thrash of punk rock.  

_ “I want you.” _

He knew it as the person behind him rutted forth, the perfect height to grind his erection against the crack of Minseok’s ass. And he knew it more when he glanced at the people in front of him and saw no recognition of what was occurring. 

He knew then he wanted it. 

Minseok nodded subtly in consent, the adrenaline making his heart rate increase as he felt his skin tingle. In a life of monotony, of forced niceties and annoying lunchroom conversations, this was a gateway. This ten seconds, or was it thirty – was more living than Minseok had done in years. 

The stranger had long fingers, as evidenced by the way his hand grabbed the handle over Minseok’s, warm palm pressing down on the back of his hand. Minseok felt fire where his hand was covered, a danger and thrill he never knew he wanted but had always needed. He  _ craved _ it. 

The soft caress on his side, down to his hip, and forward made his breath hitch.  _ Die Die My Darling _ blared in one ear, the other bombarded by the heavy noise of people living a life not worth living. Of sodas snapping, a conversation about the workday, students giggling. 

“ _ You have no idea how much I want you.”  _ A whisper in his ear, taking away the stale noise of society. 

A touch, a drag of fingers to his front, arm wrapping around his waist. The stranger was palming him, urging him into hardness as he methodically ground against Minseok’s backside. 

_ I'll be seeing you again _ __   
_ I'll be seeing you in Hell _ __   
_ Don't try to be a baby _ _   
_ __ Your future's in an oblong box, yeah

Minseok sucked in his bottom lip, rocking back, staring at the plastic white of the subway car walls. No one would know what was happening to him, the rush he was getting, the heat that pooled in his stomach and groin as the stranger caressed and teased him into hardness.

Minseok’s free hand mimicked the stranger’s, he placed it over the hand that was drawing the heat out of him. He urged, pressing as far back as he could as they continued the dangerous game. 

_ “Next time I’ll fuck you.” _

_ Just shut your pretty mouth _ __   
_ I'll be seeing you again _ __   
_ I'll be seeing you in Hell _ _   
_ __ Don't try to be a baby

Minseok chased the friction, the dangerous friction that society would deem is wrong. He chased it with the small swivel of his hips, the push of his hand on top of the stranger’s hand. He pushed and pushed, needing more. 

The rub of fabric was harsh, brutal even. Uncomfortable he might say in another situation. But this wasn’t uncomfortable, it was raw and unbridled. It was a dark and unbidden action. And it was doing more than he thought possible. 

_ “I want to fuck you while everyone watches.” _

Minseok choked back a moan, the white heat building, spreading. He was closing in, chasing his orgasm with a few thrusts back. And then he came, cum staining his underwear as the Misfits blared in one ear, dirty whispers in another. Sin met sin as the stranger behind him shuddered, so subtly tightening his grip over Minseok’s hand. 

_ “See you tomorrow.” _

Minseok swallowed, feeling the heady aftermath of release, the thudding of his beating heart, the rush of the air as the subway car doors opened. They had arrived at his station. 

Minseok stepped out of the car, never looking back.

  
  


The next evening Minseok came as quickly, but there was no embarrassment. Not when the stranger gasped into his shoulder, a flash of auburn hair in his peripheral vision as the man behind him spasmed through his release. There was no shame, only the thudding, constant reminder that they were living.  _ Minseok was finally living _ . 

Minseok had something to look forward to.

  
  


The first time they fucked was a Wednesday, the temperature had dropped, and autumn had arrived. Cold, stale air. Cold, frigid monotony. 

__   
_ Striking without warning _ __   
_ The tempest holds their jury _ __   
_ Judgment has been cast _ __   
_ Falling from the sky _ _   
_ __ There’s no escape

Minseok grew used to the pressure, that feeling of the man’s chest against his back, hands charting a course for a quick release. It was almost  _ routine _ , and as Minseok associated that word with the pain of barely repressed boredom, it was right – it was reinforcing – that the stranger changed it. That  _ this  _ would never be boring. This wasn’t the trudge home in the rain, or the feeling of half a reams worth of papers in his hands as he stared at the shredding bin. This was life, not the guise of living. 

Minseok relaxed his hand as the stranger cased it in his own, the sway of the handle shared by them both. He relaxed his body as he felt the touch against his side.

_ “Stay on longer.” _

He pressed a kiss behind Minseok’s ear, a soft touch of the lips. Their first kiss was accompanied by the Dead Kennedy’s blaring in Minseok’s left ear. 

  
_ Always think like this _ __   
_ And never do that _ __   
_ You learned so many feelings _ __   
_ But what is there to that _ __   
_ Which are really yours _ _   
_ __ Or are you just a copycat

Minseok let the stranger do what he wanted, he always let the stranger do what he wanted because that was inevitably what Minseok wanted to. He felt the press of the man’s erection on his ass, the familiar chase of friction and release. 

More. There was more. The finger tracing his waistband, the soft pads of the stranger’s fingers pressing lightly against his abdomen. He tried not to react as he felt the button of his slacks being undone, his pants being dragged lower around his hips, accompanied by the delicious rake of fingernails on skin.

_ “I’ve waited as long as I could.” _

So have I, Minseok thought. The press of people, living but not, ignoring what was around them. It was an audience that never saw the show, or even suspected it had started. 

The stranger grabbed Minseok’s free hand, guiding it to hold his pants up just enough. Just enough. 

_ Your school told you this _ __   
_ And your church told you that _ __   
_ Memorize this _ _   
_ __ And don't you dare look at that

The first press of the fingertip at his entrance made him stiffen, his hand tightening on the handle. But the stranger’s hand held him still, pressing down, communicating in a way that made sense. Minseok stared at the reflection in the subway car windows, the black shiny plastic giving him a distorted image of what was happening. 

Could anyone believe in all this time he never turned around, never tried to identify who it was that did this to him? He could believe it, because to know was to break the spell. 

The first finger pressed inside of him, slow and stiff. The stranger wasn’t gentle in the conventional sense, adding another finger and then scissoring. He wasn’t gentle as much as he was blunt, realistic, and not afraid. It was the kind of gentle Minseok liked. 

When the fingers left him Minseok exhaled, waiting. The hardness he had pushed back against was no longer sporting the barrier of fabric as it slid into him, a thrust up impaling him. Minseok sucked in his bottom lip, his eyes fixed on the window. 

_ “So tight.” _

Minseok encased the handle in his hand, letting the rock of the train car do part of the work for him.  The rest was the stranger, fucking into him languidly as they were surrounded by the naivety of the masses. 

Friction, heat. A feeling of skin on skin, unknown to anyone but them. 

_ “Want to fill you with my cum.” _

Minseok flexed the muscles in his thighs, clenching down, resisting as the stranger broke any resistance with purposeful thrusts. He dared to look around, to see how oblivious everyone was. To see how the person next to him fiddled with his phone, reading about the latest stock market updates. How the students kept chattering, how the woman closest to the door kept drumming her fingers on the pole. 

_ A PhD to show you're smart _ __   
_ With textbook formulas _ __   
_ But you're used up _ _   
_ __ Just like a factory hand

Minseok bit the inside of his cheek as the heat built, his dick hard and untouched. Could he come like this? He stared at the floor, the brushed metal and plastic that needed to be cleaned. The stranger pushed in further. He was big, stretching Minseok with every shallow thrust. 

_ “Come untouched.” _

Minseok focused as his face grew warm. 

_ “For me.” _

It was an intensity he didn’t expect, but something he knew to hide. A shudder, but one that could be mistaken for a shiver from the cold air that blew in from the moving train. A release into his dress shirt as the man behind him grabbed his hip and pushed up hard, spilling his cum inside of Minseok in hot spurts. 

The soundtrack of monotony came back. Minseok pulled up his pants as the stranger went flaccid, pulling out. 

_ “Thanks.” _

Minseok looked away when he noticed a flash of auburn hair near the door. The stranger departed the metro car at the next stop. He hadn’t seen his face. He hadn’t broken the spell.

  
  


October 8 th . 

Minseok waited, anticipation building, The Clash blaring in his ears.

_ Now I'm round the back of your house at night _ __   
_ Peeping in the window - are you sleeping tight? _ __   
_ I laugh at your locks with my celloid strip _ _   
_ __ An' you won't know who came

It was rough, the way the stranger lifted his coat, the way he undid his pants button without the usual caress. It was different. Blissfully different. 

It was change. It was living. 

_ “Don’t you dare think of removing this until I see you next.” _

Minseok pushed back at the hand that covered his own, the hand that pressed his palm into the handle of the metro car. He pushed back as affirmation, humming the song that thrummed in his ears. 

_ Come with me. I won't hide _ __   
_ We're going on a ride _ __   
_ We meet each day, use time to see _ _   
_ __ While we're young and almost free

He was opened up without warning, a cool and slick object pushed into him. Minseok closed his eyes, flinching at the intrusion. Relishing the pain that made him feel alive. 

_ “Enjoy.” _

Minseok’s pants were tugged back up and buttoned. And then nothing. Abonnement. The stranger was gone, pushing through the crowd to another part of the metro car. 

The vibrations started a few seconds later, humming inside of him, pushing the object further in. 

It was too much stimulation, a dichotomy of the usual. No slow thrusts and quick releases. The vibration was constant, weakening his stance and resolve with every second that passed. 

He was hard, painfully so. No release, nothing. Alone. Surrounded by the zombies of obligation. 

Minseok swayed with the movement of the subway car, each pull making it more difficult. He was close to his station, to disembarking, to leaving this place and trying to walk. Because he wouldn’t stop,  _ couldn’t _ stop. Couldn’t disappoint. 

_ if i could a ride a train around the city _ __   
_ that holds this as our fate _ __   
_ i'd hide from electro-circuit central _ _   
_ __ to the shock inducer gate

He heard the announcement as his muscles tensed, pulling the vibrator further in. His stop. His turn. His time. 

It was strange to imagine walking like this, feeling the fullness, to stifle the pleasure and become ordinary. To know the cheap thrills of disguising pleasure as constant and unwavering normalcy, accompanying him up the stairs and to the streets. 

Minseok took a step, a wavering motion of weak muscles and incessant throbbing inside of him. Another step towards the subway car door.

“Lu Han!”

A voice among voices, another tone to be engulfed and eaten up by the chatter of everyday things. 

Auburn hair, a man that was the right height. His back, a leather jacket with studs. 

“Lu Han is that you?!” A man clad in a suit and then finally an answer. 

“Uh, yeah. Haven’t seen you forever!” The auburn haired man stepped off first, into the maze of people. Minseok stepped off of the car a few seconds later, knowing it was him.  _ Lu Han _ . That was his name. But really, it didn’t matter. It was better not to know. 

Minseok put his other earbud in and let The Clash accompany his slow walk home. 

_ and i look to my left _ __   
_ and i look to my right _ __   
_ and i'm looking for a man _ __   
_ i'm looking for a sign _ _   
_ __ i don't wanna be the prisoner

  
  
  


It was difficult to shower like this, difficult to sleep, to breathe, to eat. It was a challenge to walk, to feel the low thrum of the manmade device tight in his ass, to remember how many times he came already. 

Minseok managed to sit at his desk without faltering in his chair, his back stick straight as he typed in his login name and password. He got coffee, smiled at the marketing manager and made it to the company meeting on time. Because, he wouldn’t disobey. 

He watched the presentations as his muscles contracted, his mind torn asunder by what he was doing. 

“We are proud to announce our new Director of Operations!” Min was a peppy person, a fake among fakes. A fade away type of human who tried to be memorable via caffeine induced chattiness. “Please welcome Lu Han.”

_ Lu Han.  _

Auburn hair. A wicked smile. Clapping hands and forced smiles. Be nice, be nice to the new boss. 

“Hello! I am pleased to join the team. Thank you, Min.” He gestured for the woman to sit. 

Minseok gasped, the vibrations gaining in intensity. Lu Han. Lu Han was here, his boss, a smiling face among the fake people who gave him societal claustrophobia. Was this bad? Was this the end of the only living he had ever done, hanging off Lu Han’s dick in a crowded subway car?

“We have a lot to talk about, but I want to start by quoting my favorite song lyrics first. And then please, share what you think I mean.”

Minseok wasn’t looking, hadn’t dared to look since he saw him enter the room. Don‘t break the spell. 

_ Come with me. I won't hide _ __   
_ We're going on a ride _ __   
_ We meet each day, use time to see _ _   
_ __ While we're young and almost free

They were hesitant and easy to please, the answers that his co-workers conjured up to their new bosses query. The polite way of thinking. 

Minseok lifted his eyes from the boardroom table. Lu Han was looking at him, an intensity in his gaze as the vibrator in Minseok’s ass went into overdrive. He must be controlling it via remote, Minseok realized. 

Their eyes locked, an electric current that no one else could sense. Oblivious, so oblivious were those fake smiles and hesitant answers. 

“No,” Lu Han finally said, shutting their ideas down. “My favorite lyrics mean that it is best to live with risk, to know what you want. To go after it. Because that is where real life comes from.”

They murmured agreement, pretending to be astounded by the interpretation. But they knew nothing.

Minseok gripped the arms of the office chair as he came, by now used to faking a normal façade. The vibrator in his ass hummed, then died down as Lu Han began to lay out his strategy for the business. 


End file.
